


Not Enough

by NoiraKai



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Dubious Consent due to Intoxication, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoiraKai/pseuds/NoiraKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More-Biting Prompt: Some Cain/Encke happyfeels, like maybe they get drunk together on leave and make out a little, and it’s not too awkward, but Cain gets all embarrassed when Abel finds out about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asocialconstruct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/gifts).



 

“My friends, and comrades, it is with sad hearts that we must leave you.” Cain put a hand over his chest and gave a delicate bow with his head. “But in these dire times, someone must answer the call.”

Standing behind him was Encke, who put a warm hand on his shoulder as Cain continued: “And so, we venture forth, into the unknown.” He gestured up at the ceiling dramatically. "Into the darkness. If we do not return, remember us well. Remember the sacrifices that we made, in the pursuit... of drunk-ity.”

“Bring back some tequila!” Phobos half-shouted, jarring the mood of Cain's heartfelt, buzz-induced speech.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Cain wagged a finger, and then rubbed his hand together in reproach. Phobos was too out of it to understand, so he had to convey the message verbally over the loud music. “You make a request, you give me money.”

Phobos gave him a pouty look from across the room as he pulled out his wallet. Cain just gave him a mockery of the same look right back, as he heard Encke murmur in his ear, “Hey is that Abel making out with Porthos over there?”

“Ha-ha, yeah he's so fucking wasted!” Cain giggled and looked over to the pair of blonds pawing and drooling on each other on a sofa chair in the corner.

“Aren't you two... like... you know, a thing?”

“Hmm?” Cain shrugged as soon as his brain processed the vague question. “Sure, yeah.”

“You... don't care if he makes out with other guys?!” Encke asked in disbelief.

Cain narrowed his eyes, focusing in on Porthos's tongue going into Abel's mouth, trying to remember why he should be mad, and why he shouldn't be turned on. “Mmm, I'll have to take care of that when we get back. Been looking for an excuse to kick that guy's ass anyway,” he joked to save face.

“ _Please_ do,” Phobos said sourly, as he walked up, to hand Cain a couple of paper bills.

“Oh! Uh...” The gears in Cain's head slowly started turning regarding Phobos's interest in the situation. “On behalf of future, sober Abel, I extend to you my deepest apologies -- and deepest sympathies,” he mused, and then turned his attention elsewhere, leaving Phobos to uncover the insult beneath his words.

Praxis was leaning up against the wall nearby, with Deimos in the crook of one arm and a beer in the other hand. “You sure talk purdy when you're drunk,” he said to Cain in a fake cowboy voice. Deimos only contributed a shy smirk to the conversation.

“You sure _look_ pur-dee when I'm drunk,” Cain quipped back, not quite managing to mimic the accent correctly. “Let's go, chief,” he said to Encke, and walked towards the front door of the beach house, grabbing his bag that he'd left in the entryway.

Encke opened the door for him, letting in the cool, salty night breeze coming in from the sea. “Yeah, don't forget your purse, Reliant.”

“It's a _satchel_.” Cain corrected him, a bit sassier than he'd meant to, his body leaning slightly into his words as he put the strap over his grey tank top.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Alright, alright! We get it. I'm gay. Are you expecting to get a rainbow sprinkle-covered cookie every time you point it out?” Cain chided and climbed into the car he and Abel had rented for their time on leave.

“Hey, I'm not making fun of your love of cock, I'm making fun of your love of womens' fashion accessories.  I'm able to make the distinction,” Encke noted, as he closed the door on the left side of the car.

“At least _I'm_ willing to admit to one of those things,” Cain muttered under his breath as he fastened his seat belt.

“The fuck did you say?!” Encke's mood shifted abruptly into agitation.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing...” Cain mumbled, and suppressed his guilty smirk by typing in the address to the liquor store on the touch pad in front of them.

“ _Destination one confirmed_ ,” The vehicle said, as it started moving itself in that direction.

“You got something to say, you better fucking say it,” Encke accused with a growl from across the three-person seat.

“Alright!” He turned inwards to face the other man. “I said, at least _I'm_ willing to admit to one of those things.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Cain hunched his shoulders. “All I'm saying, chief, is that it's... interesting that the jury is supposedly still out on you. I mean, you won't tell anybody. Not even Keeler!”

“You asked Keeler?!”

“Uhhh...” Cain's eyes darted around the cabin, looking for a safe answer that wouldn't implicate him or Abel. “ _Somebody_ asked Keeler, and... word got around that he didn't know,” he explained, trying to sound as far-removed from guilt as possible.

“And why would _you_ care one way or the other?”

Cain put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, man. Hey _..._ ” He had to take a second to remember what he was going to say next. “I'm j-just curious. You're hardly my type anyway,” he fibbed. Cain had several types. 

He wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a twitch of disappointment in Encke's face. “Well it's none of your f-fucking business.”

“Sure, sure...” Cain nodded, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, and mostly happy to let the conversation end there. He shifted in his seat to face forward, taking in all the blurry lights of this unfamiliar world.

But then he heard Encke inhale deeply, and let out a sigh. The _'I'm about to spill everything_ ' sigh. Cain was familiar enough with the sound, that he knew just to look at Encke out of the corner of his eye, in subtle, encouraging curiosity.

“The truth is... I had a boyfriend back home,” Encke gruffly admitted, looking over at Cain with defeated eyes.

“Had? Past tense?”

“Yeah. It was pretty serious -- I _thought_ it was pretty serious.” Encke shoved the back of his head against the seat in regret. “I didn't know that we'd broken up, until my mom wrote me and told me he'd married someone else.”

“Shit, man," Cain got a flashing image of Abel marrying Porthos behind his back while they were out buying booze. "That's... fucked up!” 

“Yeah,” Encke agreed. “So... I've just decided, not to get involved with anyone else while I'm deployed... So I don't want anyone to know, okay?”

“Shit!” Cain repeated, steamrolling over Encke's request, to harp on what he considered to be a more important point. “How long ago did that happen?”

“Three years ago.”

“ _Three years_?” Cain made a good attempt at flipping his head upside down. “Are you telling me you haven't gotten any in _three years_?”

 Encke nodded uncomfortably. “Yep. Three years.”

“How are you still _walking_?” Cain demanded in disbelief, and Encke just chuckled, heartily but nervously, in response. Cain decided to take it a step farther. “When was the last time that you kissed someone?”

Encke froze then, silent, his mouth suddenly very small.

“Three years?....When was the last time that you _held hands_ with anyone, three years?”

Encke looked down at his feet. It took him a few moments to answer. “He didn't like to hold hands...”

Cain's eyes grew as wide as saucers. He meant to say something about how Encke's ex was obviously a prick, and had done him a favor... but his brain distracted him with imaginings, of what it would be like to be Encke's first fuck in three years, and whether the Lieutenant might lighten up afterwards, and whether Encke would be gentle or rough, and whether he would want to fuck Cain, or let Cain do the fucking... and whether Abel would be invited –-

“No! No...” Encke jolted Cain out of his daydream, obviously seeing the look on his face. “I don't need your... pity... handholding.”

“Tch, who says I was going to?!” Cain snapped back. “You were kind of an ass to me a minute ago, anyway.” He stuck his nose up in the air and flipped his hair, pretending to be aloof. It didn't take long for his play-hard-to-get tactic to produce results.

“Okay,” Encke let out an apologetic sigh. “You're right. I'm sorry I got so defensive.”

“And...?” Cain needled.

“And...” Encke had to think a few moments, but then rolled his eyes. “I'm s-sorry I made fun of your purse.”

Cain reached over and took Encke's hand, really glad to be slightly drunk, so he could blame the tingly feeling he was getting on that. “Apology accepted,” he slurred, as their fingers laced together.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes. He glanced over occasionally at Encke, to make sure he was okay with Cain playing with his fingers with his thumb. Eventually he looked over and noticed the faintest shy smile curling onto Encke's lips.

Cain turned his whole body to face him then, returning the smile and crooking up one eyebrow, inviting Encke to give his final verdict.

“This is nice,” Encke half-whispered, and just barely squeezed his hand. They stared into each other's eyes as Cain built up the courage to do what he wanted to do next. He hurriedly unbuckled his seat belt, and slid over to Encke, putting one leg awkwardly over the slightly larger man's lap.

Cain thought he would have to wait there awkwardly with his head tilted in, lips slightly parted, while Encke decided to kiss him. He half expected that Encke might push him away, or even punch him in the face. But much to his surprise, he felt warm lips on top of his almost immediately... tasted the bittersweet lingering of something orangey in the other man's mouth as strong arms wrapped around him, and pulled him close.

Cain let out an involuntary hum and melted into Encke's chest, happy to let him take the lead, at least for now... his curiosity about Encke's preferences in this area overriding his need to be in control. Strong, bold fingers almost massaged his scalp as they ran through his hair, and Encke moved down to kiss his jawbone and his neck with such vigor that Cain was getting goosebumps --

“ _Arrived at destination one_ ,” the car chimed, and came to a halt in a parking space outside of the liquor store.

The two men looked at each other blankly for a good stretch of time, catching their breath. "I, uh, guess we should get out," Encke finally said.

"I guess so," Cain replied flatly, and they untangled from one another and silently climbed out of the door.

Cain scratched his head in uncertainty as he walked through the sliding doors, glancing over at Encke, who was grabbing a shopping cart. He decided to break the silence, to test how badly he'd just fucked things up.

“Let's see,” he said, as he walked over towards one of the aisles. “Should we get a lot of shitty beer, or slightly less... slightly less shitty beer?”

Encke chuckled heartily behind him. “I say, get the good stuff.”

"Pssh," Cain scoffed. "You know those stupid Earthlings don't drink the good stuff. They want the stuff that tastes like piss."

"Okay, well, get some of the less-shitty beer for the Earthlings, and get some good stuff for us."

“Right.” Cain concurred and started loading up the cart. “What else should we get?”

“Ummm...” Encke pondered. “Did we have enough vodka?”

Cain giggled and translated a Russian saying into English for Encke's benefit:

      “There's no such thing as unfunny jokes, there can only be not enough vodka.  
      There's no such thing as ugly men, there can only be not enough vodka.  
      There's no such thing as too much vodka, there can only be not enough vodka.”

“That was beautiful. I may cry,” Encke teased, his voice cracking with sarcasm.

“Aww, don't cry, baby. You're beautiful even when there's _not_ enough vodka,” Cain flirted back, and put his arm around Encke's waist before he really thought about what he was doing.

But Encke just giggled, leaning into his side and slightly losing his balance so Cain had to support his weight for a moment. He took the opportunity to very lightly squeeze his superior officer's ass through his jeans.

 

Once all their purchases were paid for and loaded into the car, they instructed the navigation system, which Cain dubbed "fake Abel," to take them back to their beach house. Sitting slightly closer than they'd started out before, they took turns glancing at each other and then looking away. Finally, Encke pulled a bottle of vodka out of one of the bags and unscrewed the cap. "What are we drinking to?" he asked.

Cain pondered for a moment. "May we suffer as much sorrow, as drops of vodka we are about to leave in our glasses."

"We don't have any glasses," Encke snorted and took a drink right out of the bottle.  
  
"Still works," Cain argued poutily, moving closer to take the bottle from Encke and knocking some down.

"You Ruskies sure are poetic about your booze," Encke remarked with amusement.

"Hmm, would you like me to try and be poetic about something else, or skip the romance and just kiss you again?" Cain blurted out, and at once, mentally kicked himself three times and decided to put the cap back on the bottle.

When he finally managed to look at him, Encke's expression was just as impressed as it was confused. "Sorry," Cain mumbled.

"No! Don't be," Encke insisted and put a hand on Cain's upper thigh. "Nothing wrong with being straightforward. You know what you want," he said huskily, and rubbed his lips together as he looked Cain up and down. "I like that. I like that a lot."

Cain was quickly pulled into a more intense version of his previous position: legs wrapping around Encke's waist, a fist pulling at his hair, and their mouths interlocked and sharing the vodka's biting heat. Encke's tongue flitted teasingly at his own, before he pulled back to suck at Cain's lower lip and then nibble on it. Cain licked his own upper lip seductively in approval, then curled his tongue into Encke's mouth to mirror his hips, as he moved into the man beneath him suggestively. He could feel Encke's cock jump in response even through several layers of clothing.

Encke's hands pulled at his ass encouragingly, and then moved around to rub at Cain's increasingly harder erection through his jeans. Cain moaned into Encke's lips with another short kiss, before moving into him again, gasping with pleasure as he humped at Encke's hand. 

"Heh, that feel good?" Encke breathed, gazing up at him with light grey eyes. Cain moved closer to look at them, putting his nose on Encke's cheek, and saw a hint of green in the darkness. He locked his hands around Encke's neck, pulling him into another kiss, letting their tongues swirl around each other as Encke directed his ass with insistent hands. They both let out quiet groans as they grinded into each other. Cain arched his back and rolled his hips to get more contact -- and _not_ to give Encke a bit of a show, no that's not what it was at all. It was a strictly utilitarian movement, he promised himself.

Encke's hands slipped underneath Cain's tank top, digging fingers into his skin with desperation. He lifted Cain up from under his arms, moving them both into a different, more comfortable position, so Encke could sit back in the seat, with Cain straddling on top of him. Looking out the back windshield of the car, and seeing the bright headlights behind them, Cain had a sudden jolt of arousal at the fact that they were doing this in a somewhat public place. He frantically pawed at the button of his jeans and ripped open the zipper, reaching a hand inside to get himself off as he got Encke off.

Cain continued moving into him, with one hand clawing at Encke's shirt and the other in his own pants. He leaned down to kiss and suck at Encke's neck. Two hands rubbed over his chest and his nipples and then squeezed at his thighs, as Encke growled above him, "Oh, baby. I'm so fucking close--"

Cain snarled with pride and picked up the pace, knowing it wouldn't be that long for him either. 

"Mmm... Oh... just like that. Oh, fuck... Cain!"

"Yeah, baby," Cain heard himself say victoriously.

"Uhhh!!" Encke dug his short fingernails into Cain's legs as he came underneath him, drivng back up into Cain's movements a few times, before melting back into the seat. He lazily pulled Cain forward to kiss him again. 

Cain could only allocate part of his mind to kissing, so he let Encke's soft tongue slide in his mouth. Then sharp teeth suddenly clamped down on his lower lip, and a hand slid aggressively into his pants to claw at the skin of his ass. Cain gasped, pulling away only slightly, panting heavily as he pushed himself over the edge... his lips glancing off of Encke's as he whispered "Oh, fuck!" and came hard into his own hand.

 

He leaned like that over Encke, catching his breath for a few moments, reading the different emotions flicker over Encke's face, of fondness, and uncertainty, and pleasant sleepiness, and sticky discomfort. Cain shifted off of him and sat back on the seat in a huff.  

Encke sat up, wiggling uncomfortably. "Well... that was... hot. Messy, but hot."

"Oh! Don't move!" Cain said, and reached down for his bag. "You really do owe my satchel an apology now."

"Yeah, what do you keep in that thing anyway?"

"Hmm..." Cain said, digging around through the contents with one hand and naming them in turn, "Some lube... condoms... a change of underwear, my Russian to English dictionary... some guitar picks... swim trunks... a hairbrush, oh! Adult cleansing wipe! Would you care for an adult cleansing wipe?" Cain asked with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm and courtesy.

Encke glared at him with suspicion as he pulled a wipe out of the small pouch. "So, was it the swimming trunks you thought you were going to need at the liquor store?"

Cain took a sharp breath and froze, his eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. 

Encke burst into laughter. "Hardly your type, huh?"

"Hey," Cain pouted, "one should always be prepared for sexy times. If there's one thing I've learned being in the fleet, it's that." If there was one thing he'd learned from being partnered with Abel, it was that, he thought to himself.

"Ha! Yeah, you're a regular boy scout."

"Oh, that reminds me, I have a pocket knife in there too. And a flashlight. And some rope... And a tiny first-aid kit."

Encke's features melted into a poker face. "Is all that stuff for the sexy times too?"

" _Arrived at destination two,"_ fake-Abel interrupted. 

Cain looked over to the house full of people. "Wouldn't _you_ like to kn-- oh shit!" he exclaimed, smacking his hand against his forehead, as he suddenly remembered something of dire importance.

"What? What's wrong?" Encke asked frantically.

"We forgot that little fucker's tequila."

 

They straightened themselves up and got out of the car. "Hey!" Cain called out to some people partying on the lawn as he lit up a cigarette. "We brought it, and now you can carry it in!"

"Hey, Cain?" Encke said softly as he walked up behind him.

"Yeah man?" Cain looked over as he blew out a cloud of smoke, his eyebrows quirking up at the vulnerable look in Encke's grey-green eyes.

"Do you -- do you really think I'm beautiful?" Encke asked, glancing down shyly at the ground.

Cain was speechless, the answer coming to him slow like molasses. He wasn't really sure what the truthful thing to say was, and he certainly didn't know what the right thing to say was.  "Well, that's not --"

"Haha, I was just fuckin' with you man!" Encke snickered, barely holding it together. 

Scandalized, Cain's jaw dropped out of his face. "Mother's tits! You stupid fucker! You really had me going!" Encke's bellowing laughter bounced off of the front of the house, as he stumbled into the front lawn.

Through the crowd, Abel appeared in the frame of the front door. As soon as he saw Cain, his face lit up, and he stumbled over excitedly to greet him. "Our heroes have returned!"

"Hey, princess. You miss me?" Cain smiled and gently dipped the skinny blond into a brief returning-sailor's kiss, careful to not to slosh Abel's brain around too much... just enough to make him delightfully dizzy. 

"Mmmm, you taste like happy fire," Abel hummed. "Come on! We need someone to do guitar for Rock Band!"

Cain let Abel pull him by the arm into the house, only looking back once, to see Encke following slowly behind, hands in his pockets, and a shy smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

Later, much later... so much later that it would soon be technically morning, Cain pulled Abel into a secluded hallway and pinned his wrists above him on the wall. He growled into a kiss, and then murmured, "You were a _bad_ princess."

Abel giggled in the way he only did when he'd had way too much to drink. "Are you going to punish me?" he said as he writhed seductively against the wall. "Maybe throw me in a dungeon?"

"Maybe I should punish you, by _not_ punishing you," Cain mused.

"No... Cain!" the little blond whined. "I need you. Give it to me..."

"Sorry, luv. The only thing I'll be giving you tonight, is information."

Abel's eyes grew wide. "About what?" he practically whispered.

"Encke." Cain's mouth grew into a wicked smirk.

The blond took in a loud, broken gasp, trembling with excitement. _"Is he?"_

Cain just nodded calmly in response, trying to balance out Abel's hyperness.

"I knew it. I knew it! Wait--" Cain watched as Abel's eyes floated up to the ceiling, and then focused back on him with some effort. "How did you find this out?" he slurred.

"Uh, I asked him," Cain answered in what he hoped was a flat tone.

"Is that all that you did?" Abel inquired with amused suspicion. Even though drunkenly making out with other people was Abels signature move, not Cain's.

"Yeeaahh?" Cain looked at Abel like it was the stupidest question in the world.

Abel smiled into his words. "No it isn't! You better tell me!"

Cain turned around, bending his knees slightly in front of Abel. "Come on, climb on my back and I'll take you upstairs."

"Are you  _blushing?!"_ Abel exclaimed as he threw his arms around Cain's neck, and let his Fighter grab a hold of his knees. Cain slowly started on the long trek up to the second floor where their room was.  "Did you kiss him?" 

"Abel, sshhh... someone will hear you," Cain whispered.

"Oh my god, you totally did." Abel moaned in delight with a low voice in Cain's ear. "I need details. Tell me-tell me-tell me," he demanded. Cain just ignored him, focusing on making each slow step without falling. "So, did you kiss him? Or did he kiss you?"

Cain carried him through the door to their room and set him down next to the bed.

"Okay, so was the kiss like this?" Abel reached in and locked lips with him briefly. "Or like this?" he said, and pulled Cain in for a slightly longer kiss with a bit of tongue.

"I don't want to talk about it," Cain answered gruffly, willing for the corners of his mouth not to smile, as he started to gently unbutton Abel's shirt.

"Or maybe it was more like this?" Abel went in for a much longer kiss, with way more tongue, pressing his whole body against Cain, so that he could feel that Abel was at half mast. Cain couldn't help but reach around and give his ass an appreciative squeeze.

"Maybe more like that last one," he said when they pulled away, immediately going back to his task of undoing buttons.

"Wait... Wait. So... were you the one doing the ass squeezing, or the one getting your ass squeezed?" Abel pondered.

He gently removed Abel's shirt off of his shoulders and threw it onto a nearby chair, but swatted his hands away when Abel tried to take off his tank top. He nudged at Abel to get into bed. "Go to sleep, sweetheart."

"You mean... we're not gonna... we're not going to?" Abel pouted.

"You are drrrrunk, princess," he answered as he moved to the other side of the bed.

"I'm not -- I'm not that drunk!" the blond protested, though he was already having trouble flipping over, to look at Cain with puppy dog eyes. "Please? Do it to me."

"No..." Cain could only laugh as he took off his jeans, knowing that Abel would not remember or believe this conversation in the morning.

"Well, will you at least tell me what you and Encke did?!"

He turned off the light and slipped into the bed with Abel, pulling him close, and caressing his face with a gentle hand. "In the morning, princess. I'll tell you in the morning. I promise," he lied, hoping that Abel wouldn't remember to ask again later.

"I might be dead in the morning," the blond whispered hoarsely.

Cain chuckled softly. "You'll probably wish that you were. Too much panty-dropper punch."

"Yeah, for all the good it did me," Abel said, reaching over to pull at Cain's boxers, which were very much still on.

"Abel, panty-dropper punch doesn't give you the power to get into other peoples' panties, it's the other way around."

"Yeah, well... like you would ever wear actual panties anyway," Abel scoffed and sleepily rolled his eyes.

"I might if you got me drunk enough," Cain teased.

"Yeah, but..." It was clear from his squinting that Abel's brain was doing some heavy calculations. "Yeah but then, I'd have to get you _twice_ as drunk to get you to take them off again... seems a bit... counterintuitive," he said with a yawn, and was out as soon as he closed his eyes, and maybe nanoseconds before. 

Cain moved closer, nuzzling his nose in soft blond hair, and let his heavy eyelids wander closed... and let his thoughts venture out once more into the darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the Abel/Cain drunken cuteness at the end, but I wanted to set it up for another chapter, which in MY mind would be Cain, Abel and Encke cutely taking care of their hung-over selves and profusely cuddling. And then maybe sex. But since this is a request fic, I am certainly open to suggestions!


	2. Chapter 2

“Ohhhhhhhhh...”

Cain woke up the next morning to the sound of pillows being thrashed around on the bed and someone moaning like he was going to die. He peeled his eyes open to see Abel's headless body laying flat in the bed beside him. He scooted over and lifted up the pillow that was where Abel's head should have been.

“Morning, princess!” Cain sang quietly, but as cheerily as he could muster with a sizable headache himself.

“Mmmmmm... _kill me..._ ” Abel whispered in earnest and squinted his eyes.

Cain buried his face under the pillow with Abel. “How much of last night do you remember?” he asked.

“Unhhhh.... I think... at one point...” Abel groaned, “someone wanted to do shots, that were the different colors of the rainbow?”

“Yeah?” Cain didn't remember that part of the evening, but he suspected it was because he was making out with Encke at the time. And that was the one part he was hoping Abel had forgotten.

“I... don't really remember anything past yellow,” Abel said hoarsely.

“Do you remember coming to bed?” 

Abel closed his eyes and thought really hard. “No. I don't know how we got here.”

“I carried you on my back up the stairs,” Cain reminded him.

“No... I don't remember. Did we...” Abel pulled up the covers and looked down at his body. “Did we--?”

“No, we didn't, and this is precisely why, because I knew that you wouldn't remember. Your drunken self owes me an apology for begging me,” Cain said sternly.

Abel winced in pain, either from the accusation or how loud Cain's voice had gotten. “I didn't _beg_.”

“You begged.”

Abel was silent for a few moments, presumably deciding whether or not he thought that was true. “Well anyway,” he finally said. “My drunken self will be unable to give you an apology, because he doesn't exist anymore. I am _never_ drinking again.”

“No,” Cain scolded. “You just need to learn to drink without being stupid about it.” Abel answered that with silence and a pouty look. Cain couldn't help but feel like this was somehow his fault. Abel certainly hadn't seemed like the partying type when they'd met. “What is it, are you trying to compete with me? Be bad, because I'm bad?”

“No...” Abel whined, choosing to stare at the pillow above his head instead of Cain.

“Or maybe you're trying to _impress_ me? Is that it?” he prodded incredulously.

Abel pursed his lips and slowly looked at Cain with apologetic eyes. “Well... maybe just a little.”

“Hmph. _Sweetheart_...” Cain scooted closer and pulled Abel into his arms. “You're not going to impress me by drinking yourself into a coma! You know what impresses me?”

“What?” Abel said with a frog in his throat.

“One, you take my cock like a champ,” Cain said with the tiniest smirk, making Abel roll his eyes and scrunch up his face with embarrassment, and maybe a little bit of pride. “Two, you fly the Reliant like a champ.” It took him a while to come up with two more reasons: “Three, you put up with my bullshit like a champ... and four, you take care of your friends like a champ. Including me.”

Abel's pursed lips slowly stretched into an uncertain smile.

“You don't have anything to prove to anybody. Including me.”

“You could have told me this last night,” Abel pointed out. But Cain knew he must have done the right thing by telling him, because Abel was leaning in for a kiss.

Cain leaned in too, but did some quick evasive maneuvers when he smelled Abel's morning breath. He pressed his lips to his cheekbone instead, making a trail of soft, warm kisses over to Abel's ear, which he nibbled on for a bit before continuing down to the sensitive spot where his jaw met his neck. He felt Abel shudder, and chose to interpret it as encouragement, so he let a hand wander over to his chest, to very lightly brush his thumb over Abel's nipples.

“Mmmhhh....” Abel made a sound that wasn't quite pleasure, and wasn't quite pain. He lifted up the sheets again and peered inside. “Well, at least one part of my body seems to be working... and _boy_ is it working.”

Cain chuckled in delight, peeling himself off of the bed and climbing over Abel. He continued his litany of kisses down Abel's chest and stomach, looking up to see Abel's face but only seeing the pillow. “You better be glad you did so much begging last night, so you won't have to beg this morning,” he said before disappearing under the covers.

“Pretty sure –- pretty sure I didn't –- OH! Oh, please don't stop... just like that... please--” 

 

* * *

Cain stomped sleepily downstairs after putting on a pair of shorts borrowed from Abel, not even bothering to try and fix his hair, and not really caring who saw, and not really caring about the state that the house was in after the night before. He needed two things: a smoke, and something to make him and Abel feel better. He walked out onto the porch with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, stopped at the railing with the fantastic view of the beach and the waves, and lit up. It wasn't until he had taken in a good look of the view and a big puff of smoke that he noticed he wasn't alone.

“Morning,” Encke said pleasantly. He was sitting in a chair drinking a can of soda and flipping through screens on his tablet device.

The situation had plenty of potential to be awkward. Cain had all of one-and-a-half seconds to decide how he was going to prevent that. “Morning, _beautiful,_ ” he said teasingly, eliciting little more than a grunt from Encke. “You're sure up early.”

“Yeah, can't seem to break the habit. Up every day at five,” Encke said. “Didn't get much sleep.”

Cain leaned onto the railing with one hand while he took another drag of his cigarette, not realizing until it was too late, that he was bent over enough to give Encke a very nice look at his ass in Abel's shorts, which were a tiny bit too small.

“Nice view, huh?” Encke said.

“Wh-what?” Cain said, jerking his head back around to look at him, but Encke was only looking out at the waves.

“We really got a good spot here. Abel and Keeler did a good job finding this place.”

“Oh, oh yeah,” Cain mumbled and cleared his throat to change the subject in his own mind. “I, uh, I've never been to the ocean before.”

“Really?!”

“No, I... don't think I've ever been someplace where you could see the horizon,” Cain admitted, pointing out at the straight line where the sea met the sky. “At least not from the ground, anyway.”

Encke stood up, stretched a bit, and leaned next to him on the railing. “Well, then it's good that we got such a great spot.”

“Is that why we got to host the party, since we rented the best house?” Cain got out his pack of cigarettes and offered it to Encke, who only waved them away as he laughed.

“Yeah, man, that was crazy. One minute we were all sitting around, having a nice quiet time, the next minute the whole crew of the Sleipnir was trying to pile in the front door.”

“Yes, and then all of them proceeded to try and get my Navigator drunk,” Cain annoyingly remarked. “And they all succeeded.”

Encke turned and looked at him with some concern. “He doin' okay?”

“Yeah, he'll be alright. Doesn't remember much. Actually I have to go back up there and take him some water or something,” Cain said, putting out his cigarette, in a hurry to leave before things got awkward again. But Encke grabbed him by the arm as he started to walk away.

“Cain –- before you go.”

“Yeah man?” 

Encke sighed. “About last night.”

Cain focused intensely on not rolling his eyes or making any sort of facial movement whatsoever.

“I... I'm not saying I regret what we did. Because it's not that big of a deal. But I really didn't mean to tell you...what I told you. I didn't mean to tell anybody.”

Cain nodded in understanding. “You know man, sometimes I think that most of the people on our ship are gay. I don't think people would care.”

“But I care,” Encke interjected. “I just don't want people know that I'm... available. For a lot of reasons. I'm just asking you not to tell anybody. Please.”

Cain pressed his lips together. “Well, I promise I won't tell anybody _else._ ”

Encke made a frustrated sound in his throat that was much like a growl. “You told Abel?”

“Yeah, man. Sorry... but... I don't think he remembers. So, we might be okay,” Cain said, trying to sound optimistic.

Encke scratched at the back of his head, like he was sure things were not going to be okay. “He wouldn't tell anybody would he?”

Then Cain did roll his eyes. “Look, I really don't understand. Are you really intending to spend the rest of your time in the fleet without any... 'companionship'?”

“Cain, I've seen what can happen. I'm never going through that again.”

“No...” Cain felt like he was having the same conversation for the second time that morning. “You just have to figure out how do this, without being stupid about it. You can't just... shut down!” That was as far as he got before realizing that Encke didn't need a talk about sex, he needed to talk about feelings. And Cain sucked at talking about feelings. “Fuck, why am _I_ talking to you about this?”

“Dunno, seems like you might have a bit of a conflict of interest,” Encke said, half-teasing and half-annoyed.

Cain wrinkled his forehead. “Well, that's not quite what I meant. What I meant was, Abel is usually the one that dishes out the relationship advice. All the Navigators come to him with their problems. Maybe you should talk to him. And he probably already knows anyway. So... it couldn't hurt.”

Encke looked down at the ground, and then back up at Cain, with those same vulnerable grey-green eyes he had the night before. Cain was amazed at how someone so brave in battle could lack confidence about something like this. It kind of made him want to punch Encke's ex-boyfriend in the face. But only because they were friends, and that was what friends did, Cain promised himself.

“Unfortunately,” Cain added. “Abel isn't feeling too hot. So, in order to get some time with the guru, you're going to have to help me make him feel better. Especially now, after keeping _me_ down here talking about your relationship bullshit.”

“All right.” Encke said with a smile. “I guess I can handle that.”

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

 

A "DELETED SCENE"

This was really too redonkulous to put in the real story

But I still thought it was funny enough to share

 

 

There was a bit of awkward silence, then, with Cain holding his two cups of water, and Encke looking pretty tired, and like he wanted to go back to sleep. But it was clear that the couch was too small for him.

“Hey, man,” Cain found himself saying. “Why don't you, uh.... why don't you come up to our room?”

“What?”

“I mean, just to sleep! Not for, uh, _'companionship'_ or anything. Just so you'd... be more comfortable and stuff.”

Encke gave him a look full of suspicion. Cain could practically hear the words, 'Hardly your type, huh?' bouncing around in his brain. “What about Abel? Won't he be mad?”

Cain could only laugh at that, even though it made his head hurt worse. “I can assure you, he won't mind.” But then he winced as something occurred to him. “However, there is something I should probably warn you about.”

“Oh?” Encke asked with a small amount of concern.

“Well, it's not that big of a deal,” Cain assured him. “But... there is this thing that Abel does? I just want to warn you ahead of time.”

“Oh. Okay?” Encke sat up slightly taller on the couch to pay close attention.

“Because...” Cain sighed in exasperation. “I'm not really sure if it's an Abel thing, or an Earth thing, or a me and Abel thing, or just something that he does with everybody?” He paused for a moment, dreading to even speak the word. “He calls it... _snuggling_.”

Encke's eyes grew slightly wider. “Snuggling? Well, what is it? Does it hurt?”

“Well, basically--” Cain scrunched up his face with discomfort. “He just wants to hold you... and pet you... and rub his nose on you... and just generally be all up on you and stuff.”

“Well, that doesn't sound all that bad--”

“No, no it doesn't,” Cain interrupted, to avoid being questioned about his own opinion on the matter. “But, it did take some...  _getting used to_. Like I said, I just wanted you to be prepared. In case he tries to... _snuggle_ you.”

“Okay,” Encke said with a smile. “I think I can handle that.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm starting to realize why the Cain/Abel/Encke tag did not exist before now...

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been discontinued. Thanks for reading!


End file.
